


A Crutch for the Weary

by smileybagel



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Dwarven Company - Freeform, Gen, Healing, M/M, injured, slight PTSD, still kinda pre slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 16:37:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smileybagel/pseuds/smileybagel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mini sequel to "Our Hobbit, From the Jaws of Hell" as asked by many kind readers. Bilbo's recovery works in steps with a guiding hand from the dwarves. Men with tattoos are scary, but gentle words keep him calm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Crutch for the Weary

**Author's Note:**

> Though the Bagginshield aspect isn't fully presented, it is still there. 
> 
> Dwalin kinda snuck in /no regrets
> 
> Also I hardly ever go over my work after I've written it, something I desperately need to do, so this might have mistakes in it.

It was not until Bilbo awoke that the company discovered just how much damage was done. The young hobbit was silent more often that not, only really speaking to make a polite request of Gandalf or Thorin, the latter of the two he had grown closer to in his time after the incident. He often limped around camp when they rested and rode sidesaddle when they traveled by horse and pony, favoring his left side much more than his right. A broken leg, he told them with a slight smile, and a fractured pelvis. It will heal, Bilbo said, in all due time. Many of the dwarves cringed when Thorin finally forced the hobbit down and set Bilbo's leg, hoping the bone would mend properly. To the halfing's embarrassment, Dwalin had taken to helping him on and off his pony to ease his pain and to help speed his recovery.

When the overly large dwarf first attempted to do so with his outstretched hands reaching for Bilbo, the little man squawked much like a bird and nearly fell off his mount in an effort to escape Dwalin's clutches. Luckily for both dwarf and hobbit, Thorin was there in a heart beat to catch him before he landed on the unforgiving hard surface of the rocks they were riding over. Dwalin had the decency to look ashamed as Thorin glowered at him, holding the hobbit close and whispering reassurances in his ear. The lad shook in Thorin's arms with eyes blown wide and focused on the bald dwarf. The three of them stayed as they were, Dwalin standing beside Bilbo's pony looking apologetically to the halfing still craddled in Thorin's arms as they both sat upon Thorin's mount, until Bilbo calmed and offered a meek apology to Dwalin.

At some point one of the others lured Bilbo's pony away with the offer of fresh apples and grain, allowing Dwalin to approach king and hobbit at Thorin's call without having to clamor over the pony or walk around her. Somehow, the big brute of a dwarf managed to look bashful as he stood next to the pair. Something in Bilbo's eyes made Dwalin feel like a child again with his mother looking at him scared and worried for her child's safety. Not that Bilbo was worried, but he had the frightful look of a spooked and battered horse down pat.

"Bilbo," spoke Thorin, his deep voice lowered as his grip on the hobbit loosened. "Dwalin only meant to help you. He means no harm and would sooner cut his own hands off than lay them upon you in such manners that have left you scarred." Grey-blue eyes bore in Dwalin's, a silent threat within them. Dwalin tore away from his king's gaze to Bilbo, managing a small smile and nodding in agreement with Thorin.

"Aye laddie, it's as he says. It would not do to have you strain yourself further by the simple act of dismounting your pony. If you would be so kind, I'd be glad to help you when I can." The dwarf held his hand out for Bilbo to take in his own time, Dwalin watching him all the while as his breathing slowed and calmed. When the tiny hand of the hobbit fell into his own, Dwalin had to remind himself that he was not there to oogle and peer at the smaller creature as if he were some delicate gem from the mines of deep. The act was hard, Dwalin would later comtemplate, as he soon found the incredibly light and fragile halfing in his arms and felt a surge of emotion run through him. A protective flame had been lit and it was stubborn. He couldn't be bothered to set Bilbo down until he found a decent log to sit upon.

With the routine of Dwalin's help established, Bilbo's leg and pelvis did indeed heal faster than before. Once they were upon Beorn's house, a shapeshifter friend of Gandalf's, the company urged Bilbo to rest as much as he needed, often stopping him from moving about and making him take advantage of their hosts' hospitality. Bifur had even gone out of his way to craft a very sturdy crutch from a fallen branch of the forestry. Bilbo thanked him greatly with apologies for going through the trouble of doing such a task and repeated sentences of grateful compliments on the craftsmanship, but the old dwarf waved him off every time with a low grumble in the Dwarvish tongue.

Thorin watched him carefully in their time spent with Beorn, never putting more than ten feet between him and the hobbit if he could help himself. When he fell (which was often with the hobbit forgetting his injury in his haste) Thorin was there to catch him and to help him up, ignoring the grumlbing of the halfing in his arms in favor of making sure he was well and truly okay. He applied ice cold rags and a cooling salve Gandalf made from nearby plants to Bilbo's hips at night, wrapping the bruised area with clean bandages every night and morning as they woke. Bilbo quickly got over his initial fuss over the intimacy of the action when he froze stock still as someone else tried to do the same. It was better to have Thorin near him, he reasoned, seeing as every fiber of his being shouted _'danger!'_ whenever another person or dwarf approached him.

The first time that happened, Thorin was immediately reminded of when Bilbo was spooked by Dwalin. The would-be king had fought down protective growls as he took Bilbo away from Bofur who only wanted to help and calmed the hobbit down enough to redress his bandages.

These times of healing were not only restricted to Bilbo, of course. Thorin had mighty wounds that needed looking after as well. It took some time, but eventually Bilbo was able to gaze upon Thorin when the dwarf was bare without freezing up. Thorin helped this by slowly disrobing, keeping his voice even and kind as he talked Bilbo through it, making sure he knew that nothing he didn't want would happen. It was simple, he told the hobbit. _'I'll take my coat and out it here, then I will remove my tunics and lay them here. When you're ready, you may move towards me and begin. Small steps, little Bilbo of the Shire.'_

Once he convinced himself that Thorin was _safe and nice and good_ , he took it upon himself to clean and treat Thorin's wounds. The rest of the company paid no mind to this as they licked their own scars and cuts, often going to others to receive treatment. If any of them wanted to help in the treatment of either Thorin or Bilbo, they quickly thought better of it. The hobbit and dwarf made it no secret that they did such tasks for each other and the act had become something that was entirely theirs to own. No one had the heart to stop them.

\---

Days passed in the sanctuary that the shapeshifter offered with progress marking each one. Bilbo was able to walk more steadily now, sometimes even foregoing his crutch until pain jabbed into his side, causing Thorin to rush to him with the object in hand. These moments were not without pain for Thorin. Every so often, he would feel a shock of pain from the bite wounds of the warg or the fractured ribs in his chest, but he pushed them aside. To him, they were nothing compared his hobbit's wellbeing. 

And so they continued in this manner until they were deemed ready for travel. Not yet healed to completion but fit enough for battle, they rode on to Mirkwood. The Company's travels had slowed from their original pace but it did nothing to their moods. Fili and Kili sang loudly when the need struck, happily cheering when more of their kin joined in on the merry-making. They had all the reason to be in good spirits, as they saw it. Everyone was well and alive. Songs of great battles flowed from them around the campfire, followed by new ballads of a brave little fellow with a heart of gold and blade of silver (and sometimes blue). Bilbo blushed heavily through these, burying his face in Thorin's shoulder as the king shook lightly with soft chuckles.

It was a good life, Bilbo mused as he peeked out at the company from Thorin's furs. The Durin brothers danced around like animals, howling in the night, their voices fueled by drink and joy. Bofur and his kin laughed along with them, banging on pots and pans to provide make-shift music. Dwalin and Balin pulled out their gleaming instruments and played a tune in time with the kitchen ware, as did the rest of the company. Ori was busily sketching in his books, his eyes racing around them to catch every detail.

With a content sigh, Bilbo snuggled closer to the king and smiled at the dwarves around him. Yes, he thought, it was a good life indeed. Thorin seemed to agree with him, if the arm tightening around his middle was any indication.


End file.
